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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25493479">Paid By Tail</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllerWrites/pseuds/EllerWrites'>EllerWrites</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crack, Dark Magic, Eldritch, F/M, Fantasy, Humor, Rating May Change, Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 03:29:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,051</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25493479</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllerWrites/pseuds/EllerWrites</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In this story, a coachman who secretly worships forbidden gods runs into a weary rat-catcher. What starts as obligation soon turns into obsessive love.</p>
<p>Prompt by the Romance story Generator. Crackfic.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>The darkness was absolute, too deep for her eyes to ever adjust to. The stale air smelled of onions, potatoes gone bad, and the cheese from her traps. She briefly wondered what had become of those, decided it didn’t matter: they were cheap, and easily replaced. Tessa kept still, held her breath. She could hear them in the walls, scurrying, rustling. That was okay. That was her job. She clutched her knife, waiting, and when she heard the sound of small claws on stone from the middle of the room, she threw. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>When she walked over and bent to retrieve her weapon, however, the thing under her hands managed to at least slightly surprise her. </em>
</p><p>------</p><p>It was amazing, Tessa mused, how many clients were not honoring their end of the deal once the job was done. Even the stories carefully circulated by her guild masters did not help much. Proper folks in clean trousers were more likely to pick up on the fanciful aspects of a tale – magical flutes, really, it was amazing what some people were willing to believe – instead of grasping the simple moral: it avoids a lot of unpleasantness to just pay those who do your dirty work. They do dirty work on a daily basis, after all, and they’re better at it than you.</p><p>She sighed.</p><p>“Tell you what,” she said. “There’s really no misunderstanding Section C, Paragraph 13. Payment is three coppers per tail. Not per rat. Sure, you can file a complaint with my superiors, or with the town council for all I care. That’s your right. Just remember you’ll have to explain those rats.” She was fairly confident it would not come to that. Still, she had kept one intact: as evidence in case her client turned out to be a fool. Otherwise, she knew a guy on Mill Street who could taxi… Could stuff it for her. Wouldn’t ask too many questions, either.</p><p>Meanwhile, Tessa’s recalcitrant client wrung his hands. “You don’t understand…,” followed by a litany she was only listening to with half an ear. She’d heard all the excuses often enough. “…blood on the altar,” her client finished. Tessa blinked. Well. At least that sounded like a new one. </p><p>“I get it. You really needed to buy those expensive herbs and candles and whatnot to, uh, close the portal again. Whatever.” She was not interested in the finer points. If her client didn’t want her to shed blood in his cellar, he should have mentioned that before she accidentally pinned a rat to the altar he had also failed to mention, with good reason. Blaming her for something he had hired her to do in the first place was simply rude and she would not stand for it. </p><p>“That doesn’t mean I will just waive the bill. Contract is contract.” And he should really know about being careful with contracts, what with the contents of his cellar, she pointedly did not add. Judging by his flinch, he knew it, anyway. “Twenty rats, thirteen tails each. Four damaged rat traps.” She had found those, partially melted, after returning with a lantern. “One good knife, bronze. If you really can’t pay, well.” She grinned. She had the feeling her job would become more interesting very soon. “You’ll have to work it off.”</p>
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<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jon considered the young woman carefully. She was small, slender, and pretty in a mousy kind of way, not that he’d ever phrase it like that, all things considered. More importantly, she could throw a knife with uncanny accuracy. Without sight. And she had not batted a pretty eyelash during his explanation, not even when he went into the less pleasant details of eldritch rituals and blood sacrifice. Maybe… Yes, maybe she’d make a good ally.</p><p>If only he didn’t owe her a ridiculous amount of money he currently didn’t have. He had not been lying about that, and he knew he could not afford a lawsuit for other reasons as well. He knew she knew it, too. That was <em>good</em>, he told himself: a stupid witness was always much more dangerous than a smart one. He was reasonably sure this woman, Tessa, would not gossip with her friends mindlessly, or worse, run to the next-best priest for consolation. No, he was almost sure she would only ruin him if he gave her a good reason to.</p><p>She had laughed at him when he’d asked about magical flutes.</p><p>He smiled at her as pleasantly as possible under the circumstances. And who could blame him if that was the slightest bit wobbly? “Of course, I will be glad to work with you,” he said. There was simply no way he’d work <em>for</em> her, better to make that clear early on. “I’m so glad you recognize the possibilities of…” He trailed off, waving his hand vaguely at the surface of his kitchen table, currently occupied by an assortment of crystals, herbs, rare books that would get him burned at the stake if his new acquaintance decided to talk, and, unfortunately, a pile of rat tails that already started to smell.</p><p>And the potatoes, of course. The young rat-catcher had informed Jon in no uncertain terms that it was unwise to store them near the onions. He liked a practical woman.</p><p>He proceeded to tell her his plans, glad that Tessa proved such a good listener. He was the poor coachman of a rich man now, but it would not stay like that forever. There was a <em>reason</em> for his dabbling in forbidden rituals. With the old gods by his side, he’d take the place in the world that was his due. No more driving an entitled man to parties he himself would never be invited to. No more cold nights outside, waiting with only the stars his company. It would take just a bit of work. And blood. </p><p>And with her by his side, it would be so much easier to make that happen. And Tessa, well, she could also do anything she wanted, <em>be</em> anything… He realized he was talking too much while she just silently cut the eyes from the potatoes with another knife she had seemingly produced from nowhere. It was impossible to read her expression.</p><p>“Do we have a deal?” he asked and held out his hand to shake.</p>
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